


Speak When Asked To

by elisaesposito



Category: The Favourite (2018)
Genre: F/F, Heavy Angst, The ending
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-07
Updated: 2019-01-07
Packaged: 2019-10-06 07:18:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 677
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17341031
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/elisaesposito/pseuds/elisaesposito
Summary: Anne might be the Queen but she was also a fool. A fool not to believe Sarah. A fool to think that a maid who just happened to be good with her hands and tongue would ever be comparable to the years of friendship, love and loyalty that Sarah had given her.[My take on Anne's mindset during the ending scene with Abigail.]





	Speak When Asked To

**Author's Note:**

> George, the name of the rabbit here, is of course inspired by one of the real Anne's seventeen children. He was the ninth pregnancy she had and very sadly, he only lived for a few minutes before he passed away. And the son, William, that was mentioned is also a historical fact. Sadly, eleven years old is the oldest any of Anne's children ever made it to.

Ever since Sarah left, Anne had not properly slept. She found falling asleep was generally not an issue, but staying asleep was. She was stirred by the slightest of sound and while she hadn't ever been much of a heavy sleeper besides when she was sick, the lightness of her sleep had only gotten worse.

The sound stirring her now, though, was one that was particularly horrific.

It was one of her babies, in an extreme amount of pain.

When she opened her eyes, feeling her heart jump up to her mouth as she began to panic, she looked over and saw what the cause of the noise was.

Abigail.

Her heeled foot was pressing one of the rabbits - George, Anne's ninth and the most sensitive of her little ones - hard into the ground as he squealed in pain.

Moments later, Abigail had let him go and the poor little dear hopped away, seemingly unscathed.

Now though, Anne finally saw what Sarah had been trying to warn her about all along.

The Queen tried to move out of the bed and fell, which drew Abigail's attention to her. The girl called her name and rushed towards her as Anne tried to get her no longer co-operative body up from the floor.

When Abigail reached for her, Anne snapped at her for it, hating the girl and hating herself too for not believing Sarah.

"I'm sorry," Abigail said, after a moment, and Anne's new-found hatred burned even more at the stupid, soft tone of her voice.

"I did not ask you to speak!" The Queen snapped again. She managed to get herself off the ground and, after a few moments of struggle, was able to steady herself and turn to face the viper in her presence.

"Rub my leg," She demanded, and Abigail slowly obliged, lowering herself to the ground and moving her hand to begin the soothing ministrations against the Queen's achy limb.

When the girl opened her mouth, started to try to speak to her again, Anne shut her up with a snap of "You will speak when asked to!" as her mind began to swarm with thoughts.

Anne might be the Queen but she was also a fool. A fool not to believe Sarah. A fool to think that a maid who just happened to be good with her hands and tongue would ever be comparable to the years of friendship, love and loyalty that Sarah had given her.

_Oh my dearest Sarah, I'm so sorry._

A spell of nausea washed over the Queen and she felt herself begin to sway slightly.

"I feel dizzy," She practically growled. "I need something to hold on to." And before Abigail could even open her mouth to try and respond, Anne had grabbed a hold of her hair.

Hard enough that it evidently caused the younger woman pain, as she stopped her ministrations immediately and one of her hands instinctively reached up to grip on to the Queen's arm in surprise.

However, it only took a few seconds for Abigail to eventually do exactly what Anne wanted her to do.

Submit.

Her hand dropped back down and she continued the ministrations on the older woman's leg, while letting out quiet moans of her own pain.

 _Good,_ Anne thought.  _Learn your place._

A series of images began to fill Anne's mind.

An image of William, the child of hers that had survived the longest. He'd made it to eleven years old before he passed away. Her darling boy.

An image of Sarah, smiling as she asked Anne if they should go fast.

Then, an image of William's rabbit. A little black and white fellow with probably the biggest personality of the bunch.

An image of Abigail when she and the Queen danced together.

Then, an image of every single rabbit Anne owned, overlapping with each other.

A tear rolled down the Queen's cheek as she bit back a sob, and all she could think of then is how much she missed Sarah, as Abigail continued to whimper in pain.


End file.
